So yeah, I have a problem asking people to do things for me. I’ve been that way ever since I can remember. Some people would call it my martyrdom fetish – I’ll try to do everything myself and then bitch about how ‘no-one helps me’.
I do it at work. I do it at home.
I pile up my plate with every conceivable thing that I perceive as ‘my job’ and guard it like my precious, not wanting not being able to share it with anyone.
But actually, all I really need to do is ask.
I wonder why it is so hard to ask?
Do I not trust other people?
Do I not want to impose on other people?
Am I embarrassed to ask for help?
The answer is probably a combination of all three with a fair dose of being unable to let go.
Letting go is hard. It requires trust, it requires the belief that someone can do something as well as I think I can do it, and it requires the giving of control to another.
Not being able to ask or tell someone what to do is probably not the best personality trait in someone looking to be dominant. It’s pretty much a given that the dominant one will tell the submissive one what to do.
But is telling someone what to do the same as giving direction?
For some reason or another I’ve found myself in a position at work where I’m a semi-manager. I have two people who come to me with their work problems, ask me to make decisions and seem quite happy to do what I tell them to do. I’ve never formally been given manager status and I certainly don’t have the word ‘manager’ on my business cards, but somewhere along the line I became a person with minions.
I’ve found it bizarre. Well, actually I found it puzzling at first because they would come to me with problems. At the time I remember getting a bit annoyed that they couldn’t deal with the problems themselves, but I’d tell them what I thought would be the best thing to do and then they’d happily go off and do my bidding. I can remember sitting there at my desk thinking, ‘Did I just manage?’
I’ve never been the sort of person who wanted responsibility. I’ve always been quite happy to be told what to do, so the whole situation of having two minions at my beck and call during the working day has taken a bit of getting used to. I wouldn’t say I’m 100% comfortable with it yet, but I’m getting there.
M is always asking me why I get so stressed about work. He tells me that ultimately the complaints and things I have to deal with, aren’t my fault (mostly) and I have too much of a care factor, but generally speaking I’m where the buck stops. I’m the person dealing with the customers directly and I’m the one apologising and who has to make things better. This semi-manager thing also adds a layer of responsibility to someone who is really not used to it and that’s why I end up with stress tics and pressure headaches quite regularly.
M has held managerial roles for the last twenty-four years. I’m just entering my tenth month so on that basis, I’ve still got a bit of catching up to do.
When we started the Great Switcheroo of 2011, a couple of months back, I remember that my initial feeling was, ‘I don’t want the responsibility.’ This was actually why I was hesitant to call myself ‘Mistress’ and my love crumpet, ‘slave’ and why I was dancing around M’s question of, ‘Do you want me to be your slave?’
I think the role of Mistress brings with it a greater sense of responsibility. There’s a layer of something greater and something heavier than just ‘playing’ and having someone be ‘submissive’ to you. It brings in all sorts of life decisions and to me, brings something akin to parental responsibility.
I’m not perhaps as scared of responsibility as I used to be, but it’s not something I crave. I don’t seek to have everyone do my bidding because, honestly, I don’t like the ramifications involved. I suppose the solution to this is to build confidence in myself and my decisions.
I’m feeling a lot more comfortable in the role of Mistress recently and to be honest, cropping M’s balls brings a joy all of its own 
